City Of Angels
by SummerLove16
Summary: One-shot outtake from the larger story "Feed Me Diamonds". 1960s; high power business world and public expectations have kept Edward and Jasper apart, until they find relative anonymity out dancing during an unexpected visit to Los Angeles and Rosalie, Jasper's older sister/movie star.


One-shot outtake from the larger story "Feed Me Diamonds". 1960s; high power business world and public expectations have kept Edward and Jasper apart, until they go out dancing during an unexpected visit to Los Angeles and Rosalie, Jasper's older sister/movie star.

Rose is wearing the tightest dress Jasper has ever seen, the same shade of lipstick red as her car, and stiletto heels that make her nearly as tall as Jasper. Her eyes are dark and coal-lined, and there are feathers knotted in her hair, bangle bracelets jingling as she moves about their hotel room, rifling through their suitcases and assessing them. It is edgy, sleazy beauty, the kind that makes Jasper perfectly sure that they will not be recognized where ever Rose is planning on taking them. She is just-this-side of trampy, but Emmett can't take his eyes off her, so Jasper supposes that it's working for her.

Jasper stands awkwardly next to Edward, both of them watching with some hesitance as Rose invades their privacy. When she pulls the pill bottle out of Edward's bag, Jasper moves to put a stop to this, but Rose just smirks at Edward over the bottle,

"Prozac, hmm? I have funner ones if you want."

And the moment is so surreal-did his older sister just offer them _drugs_?-and Jasper has often suspected that Rose, like Edward, finds love in orange plastic bottles and tiny baggies, but he steps forward before Edward can speak, his grip tight on Rose's upper arm,

"Rose. That's _enough._ "

She has the decency to look somewhat abashed before Edward interrupts—

"Sure."

Jasper whirls to stare incredulously at his best friend so fast his head spins. Edward just looks at him for a long moment, conflict raging in his eyes, but Jasper knows him well enough to know that his mind is already made up.

It worries him a little-he hasn't seen Edward this reckless in years.

Rose looks a little surprised, but she just nods,

"Well alright then. It's safe, Jay, don't worry. From a real doctor and everything. Just a little...mood boost."

She offers a small baggie to Edward with two pills inside, and Jasper half expects him to refuse, to ask her to carry it-the makings of a PR scandal indeed-but he tucks them into his shirt pocket without a word.

"That's enough for you and Jay, if he decides he wants in."

Jasper sighs, but Edward just nods. He's looking more and more intrigued by the offer Rose has made, one which changes the direction of this night considerably.

It is not that they have never experimented with drugs-Edward has gone through reckless phases before, insisting Jasper try various pills scored from friends and associates with him. Jasper sometimes hates the hypocrisy of wealth and power, but the trip is usually good. He is not opposed to the drugs per say, and he certainly isn't opposed to the look Edward gets in his eyes when they get high together, but the rash energy that motivates it sometimes makes it hard for Jasper not to worry.

Rose finally stops snooping through their luggage, tossing a bundle of clothing at each of them,

"Here. Get dressed."

Emmett looks a little uncomfortable as Rose buttons his shirt, a dark burnt grey that matches Rose's makeup. She is marking them subtley as a couple, and Jasper isn't quite sure how he feels about that. Jasper sighs, pulling the plain black fabric Rose has selected for him on. The understatement of the dark colour makes Jasper's features stand out, his eyes clear and cold.

Edward is wearing a white dress shirt, crisp cotton that is just sheer enough to reveal muscle below. It emphasizes the golden colour of his skin, but it makes his eyes stand out, making him look young, more carefree, even a little innocent. It's a look that Edward doesn't bear often, and it is the edge of vulnerability that makes Jasper's gaze linger.

Jasper's veins are already running with liquor when Edward appears at the bar next to him.

There is so much bare skin out on the dance floor that it is a little shocking. Edward has a smear of glitter across one cheekbone, and his shirt is semi-translucent where someone has spilled what looks like soda and whiskey over one of his arms. He is devastatingly _pretty_ , leaning into the wood and smirking at Jasper, running his tongue over his teeth before he speaks,

"Do you want to take a shot with me?"

Jasper considers. He is already drunk enough that Edward's suggestion sounds like a good idea-which means he probably does not need to consume any more liquor-but Edward has already ordered, and Jasper can hardly say no.

It is cheap tequila, and it burns all the way down-Jasper can't remember the last time they drank cheap liquor, and this evening already has the promise of trouble all over it.

He catches sight of Emmett and Rose out on the dance floor. His hands are running across her rib cage, startlingly large against her body, and Jasper can feel protectiveness begin to surface.

Edward can see it rising in his eyes and shakes his head,

"Let it go, Jay. They're good together."  
On some level, Jasper knows this. He also knows that Rose has been handling herself more than a thousand miles from him for years, and that Emmett is trustworthy, but it still takes Edward's hand on his arm to wrench his gaze from them.

No one has recognized them yet tonight-in fact, no one has paid them any mind at all, and Jasper's world is spinning with the unfamiliarity and clarity of it. Edward's hand lingers on his arm, and Jasper turns to find his eyes perilously dark as he watches Jasper.

Jasper suddenly wants to tell Edward about what Bella told him at the beach house, wants more than anything to pull his best friend into his embrace, but even if no one has recognized them yet, that doesn't mean they won't, and Jasper suddenly feels overwhelmed by the number of strangers around them. Edward is quick, quicker on the uptake than Jasper has been, because his fingers fasten around Jasper's wrist without hesitation, his fingertips just barely brushing against the bare skin and veins below, a touch so intimate that Jasper's entire body _shudders,_ despite the fact that Edward has barely touched him at all.

Edward is leading him down a hallway cast in shadows before Jasper can process what is happening. They tumble out the emergency exit door and into the alley-way beyond, graffitied red brick bathed in the dim glow of the streetlight on the road beyond. The bass from the dance floor slowly fades, leaving a dull ringing in his ears, and when he can be heard without shouting, Jasper murmurs,

"Ed...have you talked to Bella lately?"

Edward's expression is carefully guarded and blank,

"'Bout what?"

Jasper glances pointedly down at Edward's hand on his arm, and Edward pulls away, reluctant. He looks away, and Jasper wonders whether he will be able to have this conversation at all. But then Edward is looking at him, raw honesty in his eyes,

"She told me she didn't want to watch me... _want_ you anymore."

There is guilt in his voice, and Jasper nods,

"She told me she doesn't want to compete...as if it was ever a competition. She's your wife."

He shakes his head, despondent, waiting for Edward to agree, to confirm what is possibly the hardest part of all of this for him.

He is up against the wall before he can process the emotion flitting through Edward's eyes, dark and dangerous, and Jasper thinks that maybe tonight-so far from home, far from Bella and responsibility, far from the people they force themselves to be day after day-something will _give_ and they will finally be able to take the edge off this.

"As if there was ever a competition."

Edward murmurs, pressed too close against his ear, his hands are running over Jasper's arms, tracing the contour of muscle and making it difficult for Jasper to focus-which, if the look in Edward's eyes is any indication, is exactly the point.

The night is cooler than he thought it would be, cool enough that the brick is a shock against his back, and Jasper hisses at the contact.

Edward just watches him, his eyes dark and blown, and he can't seem to keep his _hands_ off Jasper. His fingertips trace over Jasper's wrist, and Jasper shudders.

"Ed..."

His unspoken plea is brittle in his voice, and Edward smirks, pressing too-close and not close enough all at once, his breath ghosting across Jasper's skin,

"I think we should go back to the hotel, Jay."

And Jasper knows he's right, knows that being out here together is asking for trouble, but his resolve is at an all-time low-and it amazes him how fast his will power has dissolved-but it is somehow proving nearly impossible to pull away from Edward's touch. He bites his lip, and Edward surprises him with the gravel in his voice,

"Jay. Let's go."

They are sixteen again, the lines blurred by alcohol and impatience. Edward pulls him out of the alley, and they tumble into a cab. They are both wearing sunglasses, despite the fact that it is dark outside, and they are so clumsy with liquor that it would almost be funny, except that Edward has his hand on Jasper's leg, and Jasper is biting down hard on his lower lip, and they are both so intent on each other that the cab driver barely manages to get an address out of them, because there is really nothing _funny_ about this at all.

They find an unlocked fire door in the back of the hotel, and some part of Jasper's heart aches because he knows that they will never be able to be as open about their relationship as he would want in another lifetime. Edward is off-kilter, clumsy in his movements, his hands gripping into Jasper's shirt, pulling at the thin fabric, straining the buttons, and Jasper thinks that maybe he isn't even aware that he's doing it. They rebound off the walls, hard concrete and drywall, Edward pressing him into the unforgiving surfaces harder than is strictly necessary, making Jasper's breath catch with every single motion.

"Jay..."  
The look in Edward's eyes brings Jasper back to the shattered glass of his wedding night, desperation and desire surfacing in the cold green, but there is nothing holding them back, no virginal bride waiting in the wings, and Jasper threads his fingers through Edward's hair, gripping him closer, forcing him to meet Jasper's eyes, forcing him to see the vulnerability, the sharp desire and the fear that comes with crossing the line they are rapidly approaching. Edward catches this, brushing his thumb across Jasper's lower lip, shaking his head and murmuring,

"Always yours,"

Before he pushes them into the elevator, taking a step away from Jasper, driven by the blinking camera in the ceiling, his eyes pained from the distance, the barely contained desire drawing heat to Jasper's cheeks despite the fact that they are suddenly not touching at all, save for Edward's fingers brushing against his wrist, and he doesn't quite know how they keep ending up this way.

Jasper has all but forgotten about the pills in Edward's pocket by the time they are back in the hotel room. His back is up against the door before it is even fully closed, and Jasper wants to smirk and tease Edward about his penchant for dominance, but his brain is fogged and slurred and he can't quite find the words. They still aren't quite kissing-and Jasper groans in frustration as Edward _bites_ down on the space between his neck and collar bone, making Jasper arch into him at the pain that blossoms, but then Edward pulls away with an infuriatingly smug grin, and Jasper wants to see him as lost in this as Jasper is, so he wraps Edward's tie around his hand and jerks him forward. It is uncoordinated, and Edward loses his balance, falling into Jasper against the door with a look of surprise, but it has the desired effect and Edward's eyes grow hazy as their bodies come flush together,his fingers gripping the collar of Jasper's shirt, and Jasper wonders if he will ruin _another_ dress shirt tonight, but his fingers are gentle and fumbling, almost like he wants to take this _slow_. Jasper is fully prepared for more of the rapid, bruising, body slamming that has governed their interactions up till now-and a part of him has always known that Edward likes it _rough_ , his penchant blatantly obvious by the bruises and bite marks across his chest, the nail marks down his back after disappearing with some girl in high school-but Edward pulls back and simply stares at him for a long moment with eyes that are surprisingly soft and open, just a little raw.

Then his mouth twists into a wicked smirk, and he shakes the pills Rose gave him into his palm.

"Remember that cove up at the beach house?"

Jasper's eyes dilate unconsciously and Edward chuckles darkly.

They had been just-nineteen, home from school for the summer, with no responsibility and nothing to do.

Always restless, when Edward had offered pills, Jasper hadn't thought twice about it.

Seeing Edward like that, all dusky blown eyes and lips swollen plush from abusing them with his teeth, and Edward could not stop _touching_ him, had been a bittersweet torture that was that much more intense under the drugs, his fingers drifting over summer-tanned skin, leaving sparks of intense, unfamiliar pleasure in his wake.

Hours later, coming down, passing one another in the hallway on the way to the bathroom, half lit with haunted eyes, Edward's touch had lagged on his wrist-an unconscious confirmation that this wasn't entirely drug fuelled, that something deeper, more tangible and vivid, lingered.

Edward's quiet laughter brings Jasper back to the present from his alcohol fueled memories, and he realizes he has broken out in goosebumps where Edward's fingers are tracing over his collarbone against his shirt. He shivers, and his words come out a stuttered half-breath,

"Y-yeah."

Edward snickers,

"Evidently."

Jasper bites his lower lip, looking up at Edward from beneath his lashes, allowing every sharp, lust edged memory that is playing in his mind to read in his eyes, allowing them to _smolder_ and spark. He catches Edward off-guard and his breathing _hitches._

"Jay..."

There is a low warning in his tone, and Jasper smirks at him.

Edward holds up one of the pills on his finger. When Jasper hesitates, he puts it in his own mouth, running his tongue across his teeth and never taking his eyes off Jasper as he swallows.

Then he places the second pill between his teeth, his eyes dark and daring and edged with something not-quite familiar that Jasper thinks might be nerves, because this is suddenly moving shockingly fast and his control is barely hanging by threads.

"You'd better take this, Jay."

Edward mumurs, his speech slurred from keeping his tongue behind his teeth, and Jasper smirks,

"And if I don't?"

Edward's eyes darken with wicked mischief,

"Then I guess I'll get to have twice the fun tonight. Double your pleasure and all."

He thinks Jasper's hesitation comes from the small white pill he holds between his teeth, but it doesn't.

Not entirely, anyways.

It comes from the fact that every lingering moment, every heartbeat, every heated look or accidentally-on-purpose touch between them, has led to this, and they have shared a thousand almost-kisses, but never actually _kissed._

Edward is nervous, Jasper can read it in the taught line of his shoulders, the way the muscles of his stomach jump under Jasper's touch, but he would never admit it, and the pills are a peace offering, a way to take the edge off the enormity of this moment.

Edward's hand comes up to fist in Jasper's curls, just-hard enough to hold him in place, to be sure they are done teasing, done fucking around and fucking each other over.

"Want to get you high."

Apparently getting each other fucked up isn't off the table. His words are slurred, but his eyes are so, so dark, sparking and pinning Jasper in place-because even nervous, Edward _needs_ to be in control, and Jasper files that away in the back of his mind for later consideration, whisps of fantasies pulling at his mind, his eyes fluttering closed as Edward finally, _finally_ after all this time, presses their mouths together, folding the pill into Jasper's mouth with gentle insistance.

It is familiar and foreign all at once. Edward tastes like tequila and lime and something dark and decadent, his mouth surprisingly gentle as he kisses Jasper. Jasper doesn't know why he expected any different-maybe because he expected this moment to come from a spiraling loss of control, from some drunken evening that simply got carried away, but Edward is certain and sure in his movements, and there is no doubt that he wants this-and he will not feel guilty for it in the morning. It sparks something deep and insistant that Jasper thinks has always been there, but never this _intense._

Jasper swallows, slowly coming back to earth, still sharing a single breath with Edward, who pulls away slowly, his eyes unreadable and dark, and Jasper half expects there to be some sharp, tangible shift in their relationship, but this is simply a physical expression of something that has always been simmering beneath the surface of their interaction, and it feels _right._

They are standing in the exact center of the room, not quite close enough for the bed to be imposing, but close enough that it is an option. Though Jasper fully expected things to continue as they began when Edward to push him up against the door, he is glad-sort of, because he's not quite sure what to do with the intimacy this has suddenly taken on-that they are taking things slow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he snickers over the fact that this has been building since they were fifteen, and isn't a full decade and a half slow enough?, but the rapture in Edward's gaze as he trails his fingers across Jasper's bare chest make it impossible for him to do anything besides lean into his touch.

"Jasper..."

Edward's breath is tequila sweet against his cheek, the use of his full name unusual, drawing Jasper backing into the suffocating desire that insulates them from the rest of the world. Edward is leaning into his body, his hands brushing over Jasper's ribs, his breath ghosting over Jasper's neck as he rests his head on his shoulder, and Jasper senses that he is searching for something to ground him. Jasper isn't quite sure what to do with that, so he fists his hands in Edward's shirt, pulling him closer, holding him as close as is physically possible, blurring the lines between their bodies. Edward sighs, exhaling relief and shaky breath, and there is so much congesting this moment that Jasper is surprised to feel tears threaten-relief of an aching sensation that he hadn't known was present until it was taken away.

They stand like that for a long moment, Jasper's fingers coming up to play with the hair at the nape of Edward's neck, the embrace as comforting as it is surreal. They are swaying incomprehensibly, and Jasper is vaguely amazed that they have managed to remain upright for this long, given their lack of coordination. In the back of his mind, Jasper knows they should make their way to the tap for water, but the thought of being in another hotel bathroom with Edward makes his drunken stomach flip unkindly, and he is aware, even now, that they will both be dreadfully hungover in the morning. Curling his fingers around Edward's wrist, Jasper presses his mouth to his ear,

"Think we should get some water, darlin'."

Edward shocks him with a sharp inhale, pressing his hips harder into Jasper's at the endearment, and it takes everything Jasper has not to use the hand that is tangled in Edward's hair to pull his best friend into a searing kiss. His hand tightens unconsciously in Edward's hair, and even in the dim light and their drunken state, he registers the dilation of his pupils, and there is no possible way that they will be getting water with the power Edward has just handed him. The urgency that drove them here rises, sharp and sudden, and Edward is looking at him with lust-blown eyes, biting down on his lower lip, surrendering everything to Jasper, and Jasper can't help but draw his head back, exposing his neck, pressing butterfly kisses against Edward's racing pulse, making him shudder.

Edward's hands never leave his body as they wait for Rose's pills to hit them. Skimming over his arms, over the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, and part of Jasper wishes that Edward would just take it _off,_ but he knows that Edward is waiting for his permission, his silent acquiescence, and Jasper moves his fingers to the buttons, fumbling only a little-he's more drunk than Edward, and Edward's hands on him are not helping him to focus. Nor is the look in Edward's eyes when he traces Jasper's movements and realizes what he's doing.

"Jay..."

Jasper reaches up, brushing his hair off his face. It is a surprisingly intimate gesture, one of close lovers, and Edward grits his teeth, his pupils blowing wide. Jasper wonders if the pills are starting to kick in, or if Edward is simply as hyper-aware of this as he is.

"We should get some water."

It sounds like such a logical suggestion-one they've never been very good at following, and maybe it's habits formed in their teenage years that find them so dreadfully hungover so frequently-but Edward moves away from the door, hitching his fingers in Jasper's belt loops and pulling him along. They careen down the short hallway from the door, unable to stay separated for even the brief time that it will take to reach the sink, ricocheting off the walls, knocking a generic painting of flowers in a watering can loose off the wall. It tilts precariously, and Jasper is vaguely concerned in the back of his mind that it might fall, but Edward's touch on his skin where his shirt has come untucked is _intoxicating,_ and he can't quite focus for long enough to do anything about it.

It is intoxicating to see Edward lose control. On a whim, Jasper bites down on his neck, marking him with a bruise to match his own, using his tongue to soothe the sting, surprised to taste the copper tang of blood in his mouth, and he almost apologizes, but Edward's nails dig into his arms, his breath a sharp, gasped inhale, and he grits his teeth hard enough that the muscles in his jaw jump-and Jasper has watched him for long enough to know that it is more than pain-blurred pleasure- as he moans lowly. There are so many things Jasper does not know about his best friend-like this inexplicable penchant for masochism-and so much more that he has not expected-Edward is so _responsive,_ so undeniably _lost_ in this moment, his body demanding more, though Jasper thinks he probably couldn't form the words, even if he wanted to.

Dominance has passed fluidly between them, and Jasper is torn between his shock that Edward would give up control of _any_ situation, and the warmth that spreads through his chest at the thought of Edward trusting him enough to give him complete control over his body. It takes all of Jasper's control not to bodily force his best friend up against the wall, not to pull desperately at his shirt until the buttons give and skitter across the floor, not to kiss him until Edward is breathless. Instead, Jasper moves him gently with movements that would be smooth, if it weren't for the fact that he is still so, so drunk, and the smell of Edward's cologne, the way he is pressing wantonly into Jasper, is making it hard to focus on anything besides the sensation of their bodies together.

They are drunk, they are about to be high, and Jasper's control is utterly shattered as Edward's hands trace the ridges of his body beneath his undone shirt. Jasper's world is getting brighter, colours and lights and sounds more intense, Edward's breath against his neck uninteligable whispers, but it's not until Edward backs him into the sharp edge of the counter, hard enough that Jasper knows he will have bruises in the morning, and Jasper _moans_ instead of registering discomfort,because the sensation is a sweet burst of pain-blurred-pleasure and Edward's hands over the v of his hips is more than enough to push the ache away, that he knows for certain that Rose's pills have kicked in. Edward's hand locks in his curls as his head lolls back, jerking Jasper forward so that he can see his eyes. Whatever Edward sees makes him smirk, but Jasper catches the unabated lust in his eyes before he looks away, whistling low under his breath,

"Oh, baby...you're high."

And Jasper wants to deny it, wants to steel his will against the onslaught of sensation, but Edward's fingers are tracing over the sensitive skin of his neck, over his racing pulse, and Jasper's hips stutter forwards into Edward before he can stop his body's reaction. Edward grips him hard, fingernails biting into his bare flesh, and kisses Jasper, his tongue sweeping his mouth, sweet tequila and peppermint and intoxicating power.

Jasper is on his knees before he recognizes the impulse to be there, sweet blue eyes and curls and full mouth looking up at Edward, and the sensation of his fingers, fluttering around the waistband of Edward's pants, makes him stutter forward, the countertop smooth and cool beneath his fingers. His fingertips trace over Jasper's cheekbone, reverent, and Jasper presses a gentle kiss to the inside of his palm as he unzips Edward's pants.

"I've imagined this a million times."

Blurted, too high, too drunk, too vulnerable for Edward's taste, but Jasper saves him by laughing. The sensation of his breath, warm across Edward's underwear, makes him jerk forward into Jasper's hand. Jasper grins up at him,

"Million times?"

Edward nods, biting his lip, wanting to kiss Jasper and never stop more than anything in the world. Jasper grips his wrist, pulling him down onto the floor, half dressed and tangled, sloppy, beautiful-wrecked and desperate to make up for lost time.

Sensation is overwhelming Jasper, his lips sliding over Edward's, slick, perhaps rougher than he otherwise might have been—Edward confirms this when he hisses, pressing harder into Jasper's mouth, pushing the tart taste of blood inside with his tongue. They are so high, and he is so, so hard, and Edward's hands are everywhere, his fingers surprisingly nimble, slipping inside Jasper's underwear, gripping his length with warm, strong fingers. Jasper gasps at every brush of hypersensitive skin, jerking the waist of Edward's pants down so they are equally exposed. There is no hesitation, natural fluidity to their movements the only thing that has any chance of taking the edges off of this.

Moving with surprising clarity, Edward rearranges them so Jasper is sitting upright against the bathtub, the cool metal a spark against his overheated skin. Jasper's hands come up automatically, pulling Edward closer, down on top of him, settled so he is straddling Jasper, steel and aching stone hard against Jasper's shuddering, sparking skin, desperate to feel the sensation of his heartbeat against Jasper's. Edward kisses him, swallowing his moans as he brings his length against Jasper's, slippery-slick with precum and steely hard, and Jasper knows this will not last long. There has been too much build up to this moment, too many years, too many secrets, too many stolen looks and sharp-sweet memories.

Edward is thrusting erratically into his hand, his cock sliding against Jasper's, his hips pinned by Edward on top of him, moaning even as Edward murmurs to hush against his neck, and Jasper is cumming suddenly, explosively, falling into Edward, falling into everything that is familiar and foreign all at once, his vision exploding with colour. Edward thrusts once, twice with Jasper's cum streaming down his cock, before he paints Jasper's stomach with his own orgasm, leaving them both shivering and shaking, unable to bear parting for even the few seconds it would take to clean up.

The highway curves before them, smooth beneath the wheels, the navy blue sky opening infinitely until it blends with the ocean and disappears. The sun is just beginning to breach the horizon, the breeze catching their hair, the convertible preventing the heat from being overwhelming. The view is stunning, and the smile on Edward's face-the sated, truly relaxed, grounded to only this moment smile-takes Jasper's breath away. Edward has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on Jasper's thigh, gentle heat through the fabric of his jeans, subtle reassurance that Edward does not regret what happened in the early morning hours. Jasper never had any doubt, but he thinks that maybe the reassurance is more for Edward than himself, so he says nothing. Emmett and Rose were nowhere to be found when they snuck out of the hotel room in the barely breaking dawn (and Jasper isn't sure he really wants to know what his sister and Emmett ended up doing last night, anyways), Edward _insistent_ that this was a good idea, though Jasper would have happily remained in bed, reveling in the newfound fit of their limbs together.

Watching Edward drive is almost as good.

"Where'd you get the car, Ed?"

Edward shrugs,

"I rented it before we left. I just figured..."

He trails off, pink touching his high cheekbones, and Jasper realizes that Edward had been _planning_ this long before they touched down in LA. Jasper turns to him, suddenly curious,

"And the driving? I didn't know you could drive standard. Hell, I didn't even know you had a licence."

Their lives have always come with car and driver, and Edward blushes in earnest, dusky rose flushing over his pale skin. Jasper grins. He's so busted.

"I...took lessons. Before we left DC. I just..."

His hand tightens reflexively on Jasper's leg, and it is a confession so innocent, so sweet that it leaves Jasper feeling warm all over, as if he has swallowed the sunlight of the California coast into his chest.

"It's sweet that you were thinkin' of me, darlin'."

Jasper drawls, half joking, half reassuring, winking at Edward with amusement, but he doesn't miss the way that Edward's breath hitches at the endearment. The shift in their boundries is revealing a side of his best friend he has never considered, and Jasper is blown away by the look in Edward's eyes every single time their eyes meet. There is desire, blatant now that the walls he has so carefully concealed it behind for so long have come down, the love that Jasper has always taken as friendship so deep and tangible now that he wonders how they have managed to keep it hidden from the world for so long. Bella surfaces in his thoughts, her words replaying in his head, and he wonders if she is the only one who has ever wondered about them.

Edward eases the car into a parking spot in a deserted ashphalt and gravel parking lot lined with tall grass and chain pulled tight between mossy wooden fence posts. The parking lot drops off into a sheer cliff face, a perilously narrow path winding its way down onto a white sand beach dotted with washed up seaweed and driftwood below. The sun is just beginning to rise over the water, casting pink and violet over the ocean, still and glassy in the moments before the day truly begins. Jasper gets out of the car, coming to stand on the edge of the parking lot, looking out over the water, slightly dazed by the sheer beauty of it all. He doesn't ask, but something tells him that Edward has planned this, too, and when he feels Edward's hands on his hips, skimming over the bones as his arms come to rest around his waist, cradling Jasper against his body with such tenderness that Jasper blushes from the weight of the emotion behind it. Edward presses a gentle kiss to his neck, but doesn't speak, their silent communication enough. Jasper's hands come to rest on Edward's arms, tracing slow circles over his skin, and it is foreign and familiar all at once, the sensation of touching one another as overwhelming as it is natural.

They stand silently, locked in the warmth of each other's embrace, watching the sun rise over the water, the soft, shimmering light as much a new beginning for their relationship as it is the dawning of a new day.

Tell me what you loved. Hated. Want more of. Imagine.

Reviews=Love.


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